


Prisoner

by HyruvianDoctor



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, and coming to grips with who you are, and who your enemy is, definitely emotional, it'll make sense as you read I promise, like a therapy session, lots of inner reflection, maybe angst?, no shipping of Ganondorf and Zelda in this fic, this is a platonic relationship btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyruvianDoctor/pseuds/HyruvianDoctor
Summary: Zelda spent over 100 years trapped with Ganon while Link slept in the Shrine of Resurrection. Surely they must have talked quite a bit during that time, right?





	1. Prologue - Meeting of the Gods

“Tell me, Princess, what drives you to fight against the Calamity? What motivates you to risk your life in such a reckless charge towards the very heart of your enemy? Is it some perception of your destiny? Perhaps a love for your land, for your people, for your friends? Or perhaps you fight simply because you’re afraid. You’re afraid of failure, of embarrassing yourself and your allies. You’re afraid of being an utter disappointment, and you know you must do _something_ or your soul may never find rest.”

Zelda glared into the malignant crimson fog that enveloped her, her hands clenched in anger. It was right, and she knew it. Everything Calamity Ganon said in its thunderous, echoing voice was true, and she was furious for being so transparent in her motivations.

“And perhaps you seek to destroy this land out of _your_ own fear, Ganon,” she shouted back. “A fear of death, of failure, of being insignificant. No matter what you think you are, you are no more than an irritating cold – recurrent and frustrating, but hardly impactful on the greater lives of Hyrule. This land has beaten you back, humiliated you, time and time again. And now you stand on the precipice of your next great failure!”

“Mind your tongue, girl!” Ganon snarled, the smoke swirling faster and glowing bright with the Calamity’s anger, forming a burning face dressed in pure hatred.

“Look at you,” Zelda growled, pushing back against her prisoner and captor. “You are nothing – _nothing_ – but smoke and hate.”

Her stance shifted to one of power.

“How foolish of us to have feared you.”

A great howl echoed in the smoldering void, forcing Zelda to her knees as she clasped her ears in pain. A rumbling akin to an earthquake shook her to her core as the fire within the haze burned brighter and stronger, reaching a level that would have likely blinded Zelda had her eyes not been squeezed so tightly shut from the pain. The roar grew louder, and louder, shaking Zelda’s very bones with its power, until suddenly

Silence.

Zelda remained on her knees, collecting herself and waiting for her ears to stop ringing and her stomach to stop churning. Footsteps echoed through the void, heavy and commanding, and the sound of steel dragging along stone rang out as the steps drew nearer. Zelda winced as the cold, flat metal of a large blade lifted her chin.

“I suggest, _Princess_ ,” Ganondorf growled, “You get to your feet.”

\-------

The harsh clang of metal meeting metal echoed through the void as the two rulers’ swords struck against one another repeatedly, Zelda’s rapier a surprising match for Ganondorf’s hefty scimitars. The two were locked in a vicious duel, one that had been going on for longer than Zelda could remember. All she felt was her fury as she struck at the Gerudo King. She hated him for what he had done to her kingdom. To her father. To her friends. To her Link. Her irises burned brightly with golden light and she held her own against the towering monster above her.

The princess was still clad in her white prayer dress and sandals, her golden ornaments reflecting the fire of the malice surrounding her and her hair flying wildly around her as she struck blow after blow against the dark king. She appeared very much the embodiment of the Goddess Hylia, holy and vengeful as she stared down her ancient enemy. Ganondorf was adorned in what appeared to Zelda as being similar to traditional Gerudo garb, but likely from an era long ago. He wore a skirt that flowed around his waist as the two danced, with golden trim decorating it with holy Gerudo symbols in a way that seemed almost blasphemous considering his unholy nature. Under the skirt he wore loose-fitting pants that likely served as protection from the sun and sands of the hot desert, and over his torso was a tattered, hooded cloak that billowed around him as he swung around in a melodically chaotic dance of blades. His arms and chest were adorned with golden jewelry decorated with precious stones, and among his fiery red hair was a golden circlet set with a trio of blazing rubies.

Ganondorf couldn’t help but smirk as he stared down at the princess. He towered over her, his seven foot frame dwarfing her five and a half, and yet she fought as viciously as one of his Gerudo warriors. He pushed his blades strongly against hers and leapt backward, creating a wide space between the two of them. Zelda slid to a stop and raised her sword to charge at him when he raised his hand in a motion for her to stop. Caught off guard, she froze, slightly lowering her sword to a more comfortable – but still ready – position and waited for him to move.

Ganondorf was bent over, breathing deeply to regain his strength and resting his weight on one of his blades while the other laid on the ground.

He began to laugh.


	2. Chapter I - Dinner with The Beast

Zelda was taken aback as a deep, hearty, almost friendly laugh emanated from the monster she called an enemy. He grabbed his stomach with one hand and threw his head back in an uproarious laugh that seemed to resonate inside Zelda’s very core. It was a laugh reminiscent of the warmth of the desert sands late in the evening, under the shade of a palm tree near the oasis – infectious and relaxed.

Zelda tightened her grip on her rapier.

“It has been quite a while since I’ve had a fight like this,” the Gerudo chuckled. “You are truly gifted with that blade, your highness.”

Zelda’s frown deepened.

“Come now, you can’t really expect to just fight me continuously, can you? Young princess, we’ve been at this for nearly two years now.”

Zelda’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. Two years? It couldn’t possibly have been that long. There was no way she had been dueling the Gerudo King for that much time. Surely someone would have come along and defeated Ganon had that much time truly passed. Surely Link would have awoken by now.

“And just what do you expect me to do then, Ganon?” Zelda snapped. “Sit here and have tea with you?”

“Please Princess, call me Ganondorf. I am not Ganon.”

The Gerudo sighed.

“Well, I suppose on some level I am. But not on any level that I wish to identify with, and not in the way you assume. And yes, I thought we could dine and chat for a bit, if I’m being quite honest. Please, will you sit with me?”

Ganondorf clapped and the void around them changed, the malicious fog shifting and congealing until it formed into a room reminiscent of a Gerudo parlor. Soft, colorful rugs covered the floor and brilliant tapestries hung from the mudbrick walls. A table sat low on the floor with pillows on either side of it for seating, and delicacies were stacked high on trays and dishes atop it. Braziers filled the room with a relaxing glow, and curtains were closed over the door and windows to hide the swirling mass of corruption outside. A number of comfortable-looking furniture decorated the rest of the room: large, cushioned couches and chairs, piles of pillows, and soft rugs. All-in-all it was a very cozy and inviting space, and it reminded Zelda of the many nights she spent with Urbosa after her mother’s passing.

The Gerudo King sounded oddly refined, Zelda thought. He certainly spoke in the manner of someone capable of being a ruler at least, and the room didn’t seem to harbor any apparent dangers. She wasn’t about to let her guard down, but she felt there was no immediate harm in speaking with him. It’s not as if she had much choice; she was stuck here same as he was.

Ganondorf walked over to the table and took a seat, gesturing for Zelda to do the same on the other side. She joined him – placing her blade by her side and making sure it was well within arm’s reach should the need arise – as he poured a cup of wine and handed it to her. She frowned. She wasn’t willing to risk a cheap death by poison. Ganondorf rolled his eyes and chuckled, setting the cup down and pouring another. He drank from it, making sure to show the stain from the wine on his beard and looked expectantly at the Hylian Princess. Slowly, she lifted the cup to her mouth, smelled it, and drank. She was taken aback. This wasn’t at all like the wine they had in the castle; this was smoky and somewhat fruity, not at all bitter. Her host smiled proudly as a look of contentment spread across her face and he grabbed the cooked leg of some kind of bird, taking a bite out of the succulent meat and sighing happily.

This was not at all what Zelda had expected when she had marched defiantly up the path to Hyrule Castle to face the Calamity, nor was it what she was met with when she first entered this realm. For the first, goodness, two years now she had been locked in a constant struggle with her captor and co-prisoner, and now he was acting as though all of that simply hadn’t happened – as if the world outside wasn’t being ravaged by the evil he carried. He was acting like – well – he was acting like the friendly ruler of another land entertaining a royal party.

“Tell me princess,” Ganondorf said, meat juice running down his chin, “Why do you think it is we fight one another?”

Zelda’s brow furrowed once more.

“Because you seek to destroy my kingdom – my people – and the Goddess chose me to fight back against you and the Calamity.”

Ganondorf sighed.

“Part of that is true, I suppose. You were indeed chosen by Hylia – in a way – to fight me – sort of. And I suppose I do seek the destruction of your kingdom to some degree. But there’s much more to it than that, I’m afraid.”

He wiped his mouth and took a sip from his cup, then reached for another leg. Zelda watched impatiently as she waited for him to continue, but he seemed perfectly content to drag things out. After a moment she huffed and reached for a bowl of hydromelon chunks and began to eat the watery fruit – a favorite of Link’s, if she remembered correctly.

A few minutes of silence passed before Ganondorf once again spoke.

“I was born a very long time ago, your highness. Long enough ago that Hyrule is in an entirely different geographic region now. Gods, people move around so much and I simply don’t understand it. Anyway - “

He refilled his cup and took another drink before continuing.

“As I said, I was born a very, very long time ago. Ganondorf Dragmire, King of Thieves, they called me. Sure, I may have led some Gerudo raiding parties back in the day, but my people were hardly thieves. We mostly traded with Hyrule, only stealing when met with cruelty or malice. Unfortunately, that happened fairly often. You have to understand, there was a lot more hatred for Gerudo back in those days. We lived in the harsh desert and had dark skin and harsh features and worshipped a different goddess, so obviously we were evil and not to be trusted. At least, that’s what the people of Hyrule thought.

“I met with the King of Hyrule one fateful day, all those years ago. I wonder what would have happened to our people had things gone differently that day. We met under pretenses of a treaty, an alliance – something to better both our people. What happened was, of course, not at all that. For earlier that month I had gone to the Kokiri Forest and – oh my, you may not know what a Kokiri is, now that I think about it.”

Zelda sat in silence, completely caught off guard by how relaxed his tone was. This was the greatest evil known to all time? This was the man who had caused the near downfall of her ancestors’ kingdoms so many a time? This was the malicious force currently ravaging her own people? How could that possibly be the case? And yet, she knew it was true, otherwise she wouldn’t be here in the first place.

“See, the Kokiri were the original form the Koroks took. They appeared as small Hylian children, clad in green and incredibly mischievous. I had entered their forest and demanded the Great Deku Tree turn over an object of great power, something that would allow me to claim the Triforce as my own. He was……uncooperative, to say the least. I didn’t enjoy placing a curse on him. He didn’t need to die.”

Ganondorf closed his eyes and bowed his head, almost as if he felt regret for what he had done. He took a slow sip of his wine, then watched the liquid spin as he slightly shook the cup.

“I know a seedling of his sprouted a few years later; I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the same on that’s growing above that murky forest across the canyon now.”

A few moments of silence passed while the two ate. Zelda sat pondering what the Gerudo had said, wondering just what he was getting at. When he spoke next it sounded slower, more reflective.

“Your ancestor watched me from the courtyard window as I met her father, the king. She thought she was sly, but I turned my head and locked eyes with her to show her I wasn’t as naïve as she thought. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t get the message.”

Ganondorf turned his head to the ceiling and frowned gently, his bright red locks cascading down his back like a flaming waterfall.

“I was much crueler in those days.”

He closed his eyes.

“The kingdom burned and I sat upon my dark throne, victorious and powerful. And then you showed up with that boy.”

He looked the Hylian Princess in the eye.

“You and that damn boy had to ruin everything. I had worked so hard, done everything I could to win –even secured the Triforce of Power – and yet the two of you still managed to beat me without batting an eye. You locked me away in the Spirit Realm, dooming me to this very void for eternity. That, my dear princess, was the start of our battle.”

He raised his cup to his lips and drank deeply once more. Then he rose and sauntered to one of the couches where he laid down and spoke no more that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far! I wrote 3 chapters all at once and have tons of ideas for more, so get ready for a longform fic. I really want to explore the relationship between Zelda and Ganondorf (and by extension, Link) as Triforce Wielders stuck in an endless loop of battling one another. I especially am interested in exploring a sort of tragic character for Ganondorf - a Ganondorf who is weary of his long life and perhaps even regrets his evil past. Like I said, lots of ideas! But you'll just have to wait and see what I come up with! Chapter 3 is coming real soon, I just need to put the final edits on it, so get ready for that to drop in the next day or so if all goes according to plan.


	3. Chapter II - Garden of the Past

Zelda wasn’t really sure what was going on.

She had taken the Master Sword back to the Great Deku Tree and had then walked straight to the heart of Calamity Ganon in Hyrule Castle, blasting apart anything that got in her way with her newly awakened powers. Once she reached that highest chamber, she found herself surrounded by Malice and pulled into the void where she now resided. She could feel herself constantly exuding energy, and she always seemed to have a faint golden glow about her as she fought to keep Ganon contained and at bay. But while her body fought the Calamity she found her mind free to wander this void as she pleased.

It was clearly Ganon’s realm, as it was drenched in the fog of Malice, but she discovered little pockets of normalcy scattered throughout. It was as if she were wandering about places from Ganon’s – no, Ganondorf’s – memories. Places that once existed, but likely no longer did, were strewn about in a haphazard manner, disjointed and random, but completely self-contained.

Presently she found herself in a small, circular garden courtyard, surrounded by beautiful stonework and stained glass. A small stone staircase led up to a large window in the back center of the room, opposite a large archway, through which a throne room was visible. A large red carpet stretched across the floor and a magnificent golden throne with blue cushions stood at the head. Around her were all manner of colorful flowers and a small stream flowed around the circular room, filling the garden with the calming babbling of running water. Something about this courtyard felt familiar, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it…

“This is where we first met,” Ganondorf’s voice boomed from behind her, echoing off the stone walls.

Zelda jumped. She shouldn’t have let him sneak up on her like that. She still didn’t trust him, no matter how civil he had been lately.

Ganondorf raised his hands in apologetic greeting.

“I apologize, your highness. I did not mean to startle you.”

“That is quite alright,” Zelda responded hesitantly.

The room was silent for a moment.

“What were you saying about this garden? This is where we first met? What do you mean by that?”

Ganondorf walked to the window and bent down to peer through it.

“Right there – in the middle of that room. That’s where I knelt the first time I saw you, while I was meeting your father. Although,”

He rose and turned to face her.

“I suppose it wasn’t really you, not in the way it is you now. But that certainly was me. The same me. I am always me.”

Zelda was surprised. She thought she heard sorrow in his tone. But that would be ridiculous. He was the King of Evil, after all – the force that had chased her kingdom through millennia. Surely an emotion such as sadness could no longer exist in such a monster.

“I have lived a long life. A cursed life, one could say. A life where I am doomed to very nearly succeed, only for victory to be snatched from my grasp at the last moment. I think when this all started I truly believed in my mission – or at least I had convinced myself I had. But these many, many, many thousands of years have given me a lot of time to think, your highness.

“Of course, the first time I was sealed away I went mad. I think anyone left alone with only their thoughts for long enough would do so. That culminated in a rather….. interesting adventure for the three of us. But that is a story for another time. What may surprise you is that the next time I was sealed away, I descended so far into that madness that I became sane again. An interesting contradiction, is it not? To be so insane that you achieve perfect sanity.”

He noticed a confused look on Zelda’s face.

“Ah, my apologies, Zelda. It has been so long since I’ve had proper company, you know. Like I said, leave someone to their own thoughts for long enough and they go a little mad!”

His honey-laced laughter echoed throughout the void once again, filling Zelda with an emotion she had no idea what to call.

“As I said, I have lived a very, very long time. And I have always had to fight against you and your insufferable companion, Link. I have always been me, but the two of you have always been ever so slightly different from the previous ones I have met. You are never the exact same people, but you always _are_ the same. That inner being that defines us all, that part never changes, my dear Hylia.”

“I would not think it wise to call me the name of a goddess, Ganondorf. Even a Gerudo such as you must have _some_ respect for the holy.”

Ganondorf smiled gently, something Zelda still wasn’t used to even after her months in this relaxed cohabitation with the Gerudo King.

“You still don’t truly understand just what is so special about you, what makes you the chosen wielder of Hylia’s Light, do you princess?” he asked.

Hyrule’s princess was taken aback by the question. She looked mournfully down at the ground beneath her feet and sighed.

“I suppose I do not,” she answered quietly.

Ganondorf walked to her side and placed a large hand on her shoulder.

“You will, in time.”

He removed his hand and walked away behind her, leaving the princess to ruminate on her thoughts.


	4. Chapter III - The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one. I've been super busy lately with work, but I had a moment of inspiration this morning on my day off. Hopefully you enjoy it (even though it's a little on the short side).

Ganondorf stood atop a mountain overlooking the vast Gerudo Desert. Below him the dust storms swirled and raged with violent indifference, and above him the stars burned brightly in the great sea of blackness. His cape blew gently behind him, and his black armor, inscribed with Gerudo runes of power, gleamed softly in the glow of the moon.

 _It has been a long time since I stood here_ , the Demon King thought to himself. _A long time since I looked like this._

It was true. The King of Thieves looked much younger than the ancient and weathered form he had grown accustomed to, and he stood in a way that exuded youthful confidence. This was the Ganondorf Dragmire of a long forgotten past. A past that had created a shockwave that reverberated throughout time. This was the Ganondorf Dragmire who had slain the Great Deku Tree, the King of Hyrule, and many others in order to acquire that which called to him so strongly.

A dark voice that dripped with venom spoke from within the Gerudo King.

“You know what must be done.”

He nodded.

“I will acquire it, do not fear. This land will burn and our glory will surpass even that of the goddesses.”

The voice laughed.

“The goddesses? Those pathetic fools know nothing of power. They are but tools wielded by Hylia, nothing more. When we are finished, none shall even remember their names.”

Ganondorf sighed. He knew how this ended. He acquired he Triforce, it was true, but in the end he failed. He always failed. But this body knew that not. It would be sealed in the Golden Realm for eons, its hatred tainting even that most holy of realms until it became a dimension of twisted suffering and evil. It would swear foolish vengeance upon the descendants of those who had sealed it away, beginning an endless cycle of achieving the surest of victories before being swiftly handed the most humiliating of defeats. The Twilight, the Great Sea, the newfound Hyrule – they were all doomed to be added to his long list of failures.

On the back of his hand glowed the mark of the Triforce of Power. He was surprised it stayed with him, considering how unsuccessful he had been. He supposed he stayed worthy through sheer force of will and determination, its power possibly being satisfied with the bursts of victory he achieved between defeats. It bestowed upon him the power of a god and rendered him nigh invincible, keeping him alive despite the numerous mortal wounds he had received throughout the ages.

Maybe it was time it left.

Maybe he was ready for it to go.

Shaking his head, he looked outwards at his beloved desert. He had hated this place when he was young. It was harsh, temperamental, and utterly indifferent to he and his people. He had convinced himself he had given himself to the dark in order to save his kinsmen – that he was doing this for the greater good and the survival of the Gerudo, that he was leading them to a world where they could finally thrive. Now he admitted the truth. He had lusted for power, for greatness – and he would go on to do anything to achieve it. He would even murder his own people in order to become the King of Evil he so aspired to be.

Now he wished he could return to the time before this began. He wished he’d never given in to the soul the dwelt next to his own.

He wished for peace.

With one last nostalgic look at the dunes, Ganondorf Dragmire turned to where he had left his beloved Nabooru and their horses. She smiled at him as she stroked the mane of his horse, and he felt a tear well up in his eye.

He walked past her and back into the void he shared with the Princess, looking once again like the aged and weary Demon King. He collapsed into his armchair and put his head in his hands, his mane looking duller as it cascaded around him.

He wept.


End file.
